


Shaw After Dentist

by Lizburns



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, Just read, Ridiculousness, annoyed Root, it's so fluffy I'm gonna die, loopey Shaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizburns/pseuds/Lizburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Root, when it comes to Shaw, sometimes it's like pulling teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shaw After Dentist

**Author's Note:**

> Just some stuff to make you laugh. Enjoy!

Root is alone in the subway station HQ when the phone rings. She sits at Harold's desk, practicing the fine art of hacking when the shrill sounds of old timey bells stir her concentration. Another number she thinks, as she leaps from her chair and hurries over to the hole in the wall, where the old payphone situates. She picks up the receiver, expecting the robotic like voice of her Machine to chime through the earpiece in alpha numeric code, but instead, Root hears something more human like.

 

“ _Hello?_ ” a woman's voice echos from the other end and it catches Root off guard. Perhaps she heard wrong, she thinks, but a few more anticipatory hellos chime again and Root goes into a panic. A sort of pre-AI-war Root mode she hasn't needed to pull out since the Samaritan days. This phone line has only one purpose, to receive numbers, and Root fears the worst once again. That their team, this place, the Machine, have all been compromised.

 

“ _Is this Root_?” the voice asks, and at this point, Root's contemplating hanging up and bolting for the exit. She's thinking about all the things she doesn't have time to pack because she'll be using those precious few minutes to warn everyone. She's about to do just that until she hears, “ _If you are, this is the offices of Dr. Stevens, calling on behalf of one patient... Sameen Shaw._ ”

 

A scared shitless turns into a worried sick.

 

“Shaw?” Root bursts. “What happened? Is she ok?”

 

“ _Yes ma'am she's fine. She's recovering from surgery._ ”

 

And then that worry molts into an unleashing hell on earth for whomsoever hurt her beloved Shaw.

 

“Surgery? What surgery?” Root gears herself for the worst case scenarios. That Shaw had gotten into a car accident, gotten shot, fallen down a manhole... you never know. 

 

“ _Wisdom teeth extraction_.”

 

All that pent up anxiety Root was just feeling, it falls to the floor where it's washed over in gentle waves of relief... that is, before the larger tidal wave of anger strikes her and erases all that new found calm.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Root blurts out. She's about to have an SF... a _Shaw-Fit_... and rip the phone booth out of the wall. 

 

“ _Ma'am, she's been trying to leave on her own accord, despite our advisory. The contact number she listed on her form apparently doesn't exist, but after some... coercing... we managed to get this number from her. It's against policy to release her on her own and we're closing soon. Can you please come pick her up?_ ”

 

“Yes of course,” Root replies. Just then, her cell phone buzzes from within her pocket. Lit on the screen is a map, a blue trail leading from her location to another not far away.

 

“ _Okay. The address is-_ ”

 

“Unnecessary,” Root says and hangs up the phone.

 

X

 

Root arrives at the dentist office not too long after the phone call. She briskly walks towards the front desk and gives a curt hello to the secretary sitting behind it. 

 

“I'm here to pick up a patient. Last name...” Root begins to say until she hears some kind of loud commotion going on in the back. Clattering and banging, multiple people shouting. One particular disgruntled voice stands out above all the rest though. “ _Shaw_?”

 

Root ignores the secretary's protests and the sign on the door that says 'Patients Only'. She sprints down the long hallway towards the room near the end where all the noise seems to be originating from. All the while, her stomach twists into tighter knots the closer she gets. Rising within, there's a fear for Shaw. Not that people are hurting her... No, Root fears that Shaw is hurting people. 

 

Root bursts into the last room, prepared for whatever damage control needs to be done. Ready to pry Shaw off of someone, bribe the staff into not calling the authorities, whatever.

 

It's a scene that Root's had the displeasure of witnessing before, back in the day, when she was a patient in a mental institution. A couple men in scrub uniforms, a few nurses, all gathered in a tight circle around what must be Shaw in the corner of the room. 

 

Root fumes at this. They better not be trying to stick Shaw with a needle, or Root's going to add herself to the mix and scrap everyone in this damn place.

 

She shoves past the crowd in rescue mode, and when she finally clears a path to Shaw, she just stops dead in her tracks. For the second time today, Root blurts out, “ _Are you fucking kidding me_ ?”

 

The only thing in any real danger is the tall plastic plant in which Shaw is strangling the artificial life from. 

 

“Shaw!” Root shouts. So loud, the entire room goes still, and Shaw whips her head around. She sees Root and lets go of the poor plant immediately.

 

“Root!” she exclaims. Only, with all the gauze stuffed in her mouth, puffing her cheeks out like a chipmunk's, it sounds more like _Woot_. She rushes over and throws her arms around Root, locking her into an abrupt bear hug that bewilders all the anger away.

 

“My girlfwend is here!” Shaw declares, squeezing Root with all her compact strength. The first thought that enters Root's mind is, _Who are you and what have you done with Shaw?_ But she lets the other woman get it out of her system. 

 

“ _And she is gonna kick your ass_!” Shaw shouts all of sudden. 

 

_ Who's ass? _ Root wonders. That is, until she sees what Shaw's glaring at so murderously, and Root rolls her eyes so far into the back of her head.  _ And... we're back to plant again. _

 

Root rubs her temples as one of the nurses sidles over to her. 

 

“Good, you're here,” she says, unamused. “We were about to call the cops.” 

Root sighs.  _Like that would have really helped the... situation_ or whatever the hell you would call Shaw hallucinating inanimate objects as people. 

 

“Since when is it against the law to shake plastic trees?” Root sarcastically remarks. 

 

“She's scaring people.”

 

_Touche'_

 

“Oh she's harmless,” Root reassuringly says to the nurse. But when she really thinks about it, that's the fattest lie she's ever told. Even when Shaw's sleeping, she's still one of the most dangerous women in the world. 

 

“Is this... normal?” Root asks warily, still glancing sideways and keeping an eye on Shaw, who is now nose to leaf with the plant, glaring daggers and doling threats. 

 

“Typically, the effects of the anesthesia should have lessened by now, but...”

 

“But what?”

 

“The doctor had to give her more than the usual dosage,” the nurse tells her. “She kept waking up during the procedure, pulling the instruments out of her mouth and trying to escape.”

 

_That definitely sounds like Sameen._ Root's surprised the doctor still has all his fingers.

 

“I've never seen a reaction like this though.” They both shake their heads simultaneously as they gaze upon this spectacle that Shaw's making of herself. 

 

_Why in the world would she consent to anesthesia anyway?_

 

For a woman with a high threshold for pain and a constant desire for stoicism, letting herself be put under seems like an odd choice. 

 

“She's special,” Root thinks aloud, as she watches Shaw interrogate this piece of office décor. “In so... _so_ many ways.” Finally seeing the humor of it all, she chuckles. 

 

“C'mon sweetie,” Root says. “I think we should go now.”

 

“We can't leave yet!” Shaw protests, pointing at the plastic tree. “This guy stole my keys and he won't give them back!”

 

Root blinks a few times and stares blankly to Shaw. Is she serious?  _What is it with you and the damn tree?_

 

“I've tried everything Root,” Shaw says, leaning closer to whisper, “ _And now, I'm gonna have to get more 'creative'._ ”

 

_Really? You're going to torture a tree because it stole your keys?_

 

Much to Root's discontent, Shaw is very serious. When she balls a handful of leaves into her fist, as if yanking them off would cause a great deal of pain. When she turns to the remaining onlookers in the room before she does just that, saying, “You should cover your eyes. It's about to get weird.”

 

_Oh sweetie, you have absolutely no idea..._

 

She watches helplessly as this extremely intelligent, highly skilled, ex-government operative, mercilessly interrogates... a plastic palm tree.

 

“We took them,” the nurse finally tells her. “For obvious reasons.” She slips Root the 'missing' keys and walks away. This information would have been helpful earlier.

 

 

“ _Oh Shaw_...” Root sing songs, jingling said car keys to get her attention. “ _I found them!_ ”

 

Shaw stops everything she's doing, and to Root, it seems like she's trying really really hard to connect all the dots in her head. Squinting as her eyes draw zig-zagged patterns; from Root, to the keys, to the plant, back to the keys, to the handful of plucked leaves, and finally situating with Root. 

 

“Oh...” she shrugs. “Okay!” 

 

Root hooks an arm around Shaw and goes to lead her out, smiling sympathetically at the severely annoyed staff as they walk by. Just like that, it's over.

 

“This isn't over Bon Jovi!” Shaw calls out over her shoulder, scowling. She just has to have the last word with everything, doesn't she?

 

“ _Let's go Sameen_ ,” Root grits through the teeth of her forced smile, tugging Shaw away by the arm even harder. 

 

 

As soon as they exit the building, Shaw weasels out of Root's grip and marches down the sidewalk ahead of her. 

 

“ _Fuck you Bon Jovi_ ,” Shaw grumbles and throws all the plastic leaves she's collected up in the air. And this is the part where Root just breaks down, unable to control the bought of laughter she's been holding in for so long. 

 

Shaw throws a frown her way. “Why're you laughing at me?”

 

“Because you are so utterly adorable,” Root teases, giggling once more in tow of Shaw, who's walking as if she's on some sort of mission. Root thinks she's off to go find her car, and that's okay, because Root has no idea where it is. She'll just have to tag along behind Shaw and find out.

 

“I am not _adorable,_ ” Shaw growls under her breath. Though, that's a matter of opinion. The way Shaw's stomping around like a pouting child, adorable does little justice. 

 

“I'll have you know...” Shaw spins around, still pedaling backwards. Maybe because she wants to tell Root directly that she's a _deadly 'sassassin',_ show her the sole finger in which she knows over 30 ways to kill a man with.

 

She's so busy flipping Root off that she doesn't see the group of metal trash cans on the sidewalk in her path. Root giggles again when Shaw runs right into them and nearly falls over. 

 

“If you're a deadly assassin then I'm a secret agent,” Root teasingly remarks, but Shaw fails to notice the ever abundance of sarcasm in Root's voice. 

 

It's like Shaw's just heard the most riveting thing in the world. Frozen in place, jaw dropped, eyes wide and livid, gawking at Root.

 

“Get out!” she exclaims, excitedly punching Root in the arm. “Who're you with? _CSI? FDA? Speckle Ops_?”

 

Root's going to get a sprain in her neck from disappointingly shaking her head so much today. 

 

She sighs, cups one of Shaw's cheeks and endearingly smiles. “Gosh, you're so pretty.”

 

 

When they do finally reach Shaw's car, Root's presented with another problem; Shaw's unrelenting stubbornness. The woman absolutely refuses to let Root drive. Shaw blocks driver side door with her body, unwilling to move even when Root tries to rationally reason with her. At some point, while Shaw's going off on some incoherent tangent, Root contemplates hog tying this ridiculous woman with her own zip ties and throwing her in the trunk. 

 

Root grudgingly resists the urge to do so. Instead, she chooses a much wiser route; of fighting crazy with crazy. Root gives Shaw the keys to a different car, her own car, and goes on to tell Shaw that they are in England. And in  _England_ , the steering wheel is on the  _other_ side of the vehicle. 

 

Surprisingly, it works. 

 

Drug addled Shaw figures out the trick too late. Far too late. Amusingly enough, it takes her several attempts of trying to turn the car over by sticking the key in an air vent. But when she does eventually put two and two together, she's not happy about it. In fact, she looks like the world has just come crashing down upon her. Root could cry, at the saddest, the most lost and hurt expression on Shaw's face when she realizes the ruse. 

 

“You lied to me...” Shaw frowns.

 

In Root's defense, it was for Shaw's own good. Another thing that's also for her own good, enabling the child locks on the door before Shaw makes a run for it. Which she tries to do soon after this discovery.

 

“We're not supposed to lie to each other _Root_ ,” Shaw huffs, bundling her arms across her chest, slouching in the seat. Pouting. Like a child.

 

Root remembers the agreement they made a long time ago too; the deal Shaw's trying to guilt trip her with now. They also agreed that withholding information was considered lying as well. Something Shaw seems to have inexplicably forgotten. 

 

“Why didn't you tell me you were having a procedure done?” Root asks point blank. This fiasco could have been avoided if Shaw had just told her. Instead, Root almost had a heart attack and Shaw almost did some jail time. 

 

Shaw grumbles something unintelligible as a response and Root gives up, for now. When the drugs wear off, there will definitely be a discussion, followed by some liberal spanking. And as soon as Shaw heals, Root's going to do some withholding of her own, in the way of orgasms. 

 

The radio comes on when Root starts the car, and Shaw goes from drawing stick figures on the window to playing with the buttons. 

 

“ _Oooh_ , I like this song,” Shaw says, and Root throws her a strange look. 

 

“Shaw. It's NPR...” But Root only gets shushed.

 

“This is the best part.”

 

 

They drive in silence, save for the dull and monotonous talk show playing at low volume. For only a few miles though.

 

“I feel weird,” Shaw peculiarly remarks. Root looks over to find her touching and poking her puffy cheeks. Probing the inside of her mouth.

 

“Do you feel like you're going to throw up?”

 

Shaw scoffs. “What am I? A _loser_?”

 

_No, but you sure are a brat._

 

“I just feel... so weird. Like I'm not here, y'know?” Shaw says, staring deeply into the palms of her hands before turning to Root with concern. “I am here, right?”

 

“Yes sweetie, you're here. In a car. With me. And we're going home okay?”

 

“Car,” Shaw parrots. “Carrrrraaaah... My tongue s'not working right now.”

 

“Don't worry. It'll be tip top in no time,” Root reassures her and smirks. “And _then_ , it can resume all of it's regular activities.” Much later, and maybe. Root's not sure when she's going to forgive Shaw. 

 

“You're really nice,” Shaw bluntly says to her, and Root looks over with dopey heart eyes and batted lashes.

 

“ _Oh Shaw_...” she coos. 

 

“Don't you _oh Shaw_ me... who is Shaw.” A scowl soon becomes a wondering look. “You're like, really nice to me. Why?”

 

“Because I adore you so.”

 

“But why?” Shaw presses on. “I'm so mean all the time.”

 

“Well you're not being mean right now,” Root smiles. Right now, Shaw's in the rarest of forms.

 

“I will be later though, when the anastasia wears off.” She frowns to herself. “I will be Mean Sameen. _Grrrr... arrrggg_.”

 

“That's too bad,” Root replies in earnest. “I'm quite enjoying you like this.” In this moment though, not earlier. Not when Shaw was assaulting plastic trees or human shielding the car door.

 

“Like what?” Shaw asks with intrigue.

 

“Well,” Root shrugs, “You're all doped up and it's kinda cute.”

 

“Cute like this bunny?”

 

“What?” Root looks over and sees that Shaw's removed a large piece of gauze from her mouth, and is now playing with it.

 

“Put that back.”

 

“ _In my mouth_?” she gawks, like Root's the crazy one saying crazy things today. “Look Root, it's hopping!”

 

Root snickers, as Shaw dances the fluffy wad of cotton across the dash board, happily, until it slips from her fingers and falls to the floor. Shaw then stares at silently between her feet, before scooping it up and holding it in her lap.

 

“It won't hop anymore,” she says morosely. “It's dead.”

 

“It's not dead...” Root tells her, but Shaw doesn't seem to be listening. She's fixated on the ball of gauze cradled in her hands.

 

“Look at the all the blood...” she says, stroking it gently. “I killed it.”

 

“You didn't kill it Shaw,” Root promises, trying not to sound like she's chiding.

 

“I played with it too hard and now it's dead.” Shaw frustratingly shoves the wad of cotton in her jacket pocket and sits silently again, glaring out the window for a couple of minutes that worry Root.

 

“What if you were that bunny?” Shaw quietly asks, eyes still transfixed a thousand yards ahead.

 

Root looks at her questionably. “What do you mean?”

 

“I don't ever wanna hurt you Root,” she just says.

 

Root frowns; of course she knows that. How could she not? But in this moment, she isn't quite sure how to respond. Root's stuck in the same place Shaw seems to be. Her head flooded by her own thoughts and feelings, up to her neck and unable to articulate the flow of words, to channel them evenly.

 

It's troublesome to watch Shaw when she's like this, struggling with something in her own head. Root's aware of the conflict, aware that Shaw seems to be losing the battle. She sees the anger taking over like it always does, Shaw's body stiffening, her hands clenching into tight fists. Root reaches out and tries to touch her cheek, to comfort her as she always does, to settle the waves. But whatever has built up inside Shaw, it overflows suddenly. Shaw brings one of her fists hard against the dashboard, splitting the plastic.

 

Root tugs her by the jacket, not forcefully, but encouragingly so. She pulls Shaw closer so that she can lay down with her head in Root's lap while she drives.

 

“It's okay Sameen.” She weaves her fingers through Shaw's right hand. “You're okay,” she calmly says in a soothing voice, and kisses the tops of Shaw's knuckles surely going to swell and bruise later.

 

“I like this song too,” Shaw mumbles and Root smirks a little. It's an uppity jingle for a toothpaste commercial, but who cares?

 

She runs a loving hand along Shaw's arm slowly, up and down from her elbow to her shoulder, watching the road and thinking. Occasionally giving those tightly wound muscles a squeeze until all of Shaw's body is relaxed.

 

“You know I'd tell you anything right? Even if it was something bad, like if you were hurting me,” Root says, and Shaw looks up at her.

 

“You would?”

 

“Of course, and you can too,” she smiles. “That _is_ what safe words are for.”

 

Shaw closes her eyes and groans. “ _Root_...”

 

“I mean it Shaw. Who says we can't use them outside of the bedroom?”

 

“You mean like...” she pauses to think, scratching the denim covering Root's thigh. “Like if one of us does something that upsets the other?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“A safe word for us...” Shaw poses aloud.

 

“That's right.” Root gently squeezes her shoulder once more. “And you can use as many words as you like Shaw. Whatever comes to mind.”

 

Shaw thinks about it for a moment before she says, “Ok Root. I can do that.”

 

“Good.” Root looks down at her and smiles, tucking back some hair behind Shaw's ear so she can see her beautiful puffy face. “And if you start doing that, maybe I'll stop pulling your teeth all the time,” Root jokes.

 

“ _Ugh_ ,” Shaw exaggeratedly groans, covering her face and burying it Root's lap. “Stay outta my mouth.”

 

“But _Shaw_ , I like being in your mouth.” From her crotch, she can feel and hear Shaw giggling at that.

 

Shaw stays like this for a while, laying in Root's lap. Enjoying Root's fingers stroking her hair and massaging her scalp, letting out soft little moans of pleasure when they find a good spot and grunting in disapproval if they ever still.

 

Root reaches a red light, pulls up and stops alongside a large SUV already waiting at the intersection. She continues to fondly caress Shaw as she stares out the window. Gazing absently at the sidewalks and the city streets, roaming with a goofy smile on her face. She gets to the SUV parked to the left of her and sees an older woman glaring distastefully her way. Root wonders why for moment, until she realizes how Shaw's head in her lap must look from that angle, like something completely lewd and mischievous is happening in Root's car.

 

Root just plays into it. Why? Because she's feeling the spirit of today's ridiculousness. She looks sadistically at the woman and proceeds to silently mimic the most graphic orgasm she can muster in the mere seconds before the light changes. Ending it all with a sly wink, Root revels in the woman's scoff of disgust and the _Why I never!_ face she makes shortly thereafter.

 

“You know what I want later?” Shaw says as the light goes green.

 

“What's that?”

 

“Some ice cream and a big spoon.”

 

“Hmm... I don't think we have any, but I'm sure we could _improvise_.” Root smirks as she looks down at Shaw, “You can lick me and then afterwards, I'll hold you.”

 

“Oh, _shut up_!” Shaw growls in annoyance, starting to sound like her usual self. “If anyone's gonna be the ice cream, it's me.”

 

“I could go for a Shaw sundae right about now...” Root teases and Shaw angles her head just so she can glare up at her.

 

“You don't quit, do you?”

 

Root just looks at her and smiles sweetly. Will she ever quit? When it comes to Shaw... No.

 

“Never.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by real events, of picking my friend up from her wisdom tooth surgery, which was... a disaster. There's also a reference in there from a TV sitcom. If you can guess it, you get a gold star! (or a fic request idc.)


End file.
